To The Ones That We Lost On The Way
by The Solo Song Warrior
Summary: "Why are you letting yourself slipping away from life like this!" "Because music is my life! And it isn't the same without her." Years after that fateful Day of the Dead, Socorro and Miguel mourn with a friend over a friend. When grief takes over, they find themselves in the Land of the Dead. A boy who became a wise young man, a brother who wants peace, a spirit, and a lost girl.


_So: Say that I'm crazy or call me a fool_  
_M: But last night it seemed that I dreamed about you_  
_So: When I opened my mouth what came out was a song_  
_So and M: And you knew every word and we all sang along_

My family says that I'm probably the luckiest in our family. I was born soon after music was not only just allowed, but created in our house. My older brother? He's the star of our family. He's always performing in the plaza, going on short trips every now and then for a good gig, and writing songs left and right. And me? Well, he lets me and some friends join in. We call ourselves "Las Cuatro Músicas"- The Four Musics. Well, we used to be anyways.

See, my older brother is Miguel, the natural music prodigy of our family. he takes after our great-great-grandfather, _Papa _Hector, and he taught me everything he knows about music and our family's history. For him, family and music are aa big deal, telling stories of all our family members since as long as I could remember. If I can't find him in Mariachi Plaza or in the house doing some chores, then I'll most likely find him taking care of and talking to the _ofrenda. _ I find it silly that i used to join him in doing so.

_So: To a melody played on the strings of our souls_  
_M: And a rhythm that rattled us down to the bone_  
_So: Our love for eachother will live on forever_  
_So and Se: In every beat of my proud corazón_  
_M and A: Our love for each other will live on forever_  
_S and M: In every beat of my proud corazón_

The other two _Musicas _are our friends, Amala and Sergeo Lopez. Sergeo and Miguel were like brothers, even though Miguel was soon turning the good age of twenty-six and he only nineteen. His little sister, Amala, was barely a few months older than me, meaning we're both 14 and soon going on 15 together. Or, we were anyways. After Miguel turned eighteen, he started traveling and making a name for himself in the music world, but he always came back home in a week at least. Sometimes we were allowed to go with him, and we'd all perform together. Sergeo was great with wind instruments, favoring the trumpet more often than the rest. Miguel, of course, always had _Papa_ Hector's guitar at the ready, and Amala was _amazing _at anything to do with classical music, so she'd normally pick up the violin. And me? I'm the co-star vocalist alongside my brother and player of several different instruments, with my favorites being the guitar, violin, and piano.

Together, we played in front of crowds, parties, and laughed together ever since we were little. We were all going to be famous for our awesome skills together. The world would know our music just as well as _Papa _Hector's. We were going to be an inseparable musical siblinghood.

_So: Ay mi familia, M: oiga mi gente_  
_M: Canten al coro, S: let it be known_  
_A and M: Our love for each other will live on forever_  
_A and Se: In every beat of my proud corazón_  
_So and M: Ay mi familia, oiga mi gente_  
_Canten al coro, let it be known_  
_Our love for each other will live on forever_  
_All: In every beat of my proud corazón_

Until we weren't.

At the young age of almost fifteen, Amala Lopez died in a tragic car accident. We were hanging out in the forests just outside of Santa Cecilia, finding the outdoors a perfect place to relax, hang out, and practice when we don't want everyone to know what we're working on yet. The sun was already setting as a storm began raining down on us, and we were running back home, laughing as we made sure our instruments were safe in their cases. We just wanted to go back to the shop, where we knew Abuelita was waiting with some chocolate atole and tamales.

Then, out of nowhere, some drunk drivers came barreling out of the place. In a small town like Santa Cecilia, cars weren't common, so of course we were scared. We ran, because that was what the adrenaline in our blood had us do.

Amala's, however, must not have worked as fast as ours, however.

I saw it more clearly than the others, because I had tripped just far enough from the road. And I heard the deathly sound of the metal colliding with her frame, which was slim and just a little taller than mine. It was so loud and clear, that even now, when it replays in my nightmares, I can hear her bones cracking alongside the bending metal and shattering glass.

Two college students that just happened to be home to visit family and friends were charged the next day after Amala was declared dead after hours of trying to save her. They barely got away with scratches, meanwhile. Ever since, I can't bring myself to be around certain places often.

I can't spend more than ten minutes in our little getaway in the forest, where we all carved our names in a tree to mark our siblinghood.

I can't perform any mariachi music in public, especially happy and upbeat ones, because they always remind me of Amala's happy-go-luck, optimistic attitude.

I can't spend time at Amala and Sergeo's house anymore, where it was only just them and their grandmother living there, their parents having been dead for quite a few years and her memory only seeming to worsen after loosing Amala.

I can't play for my family anymore, opting to spend my time with some local kids that favored... some darker music when I don't feel like dealing with their worrying.

My name is Socorro Rivera. My family and close friends call me Coco, since I was named after our _Mama _Coco. And... I am a musician who has lost the song of her soul.


End file.
